Here Comes The Sun
by tlyxor1
Summary: After a personal tragedy, Adelaide Potter transfers from Crawford Country School for Girls to William McKinley High. She's in search of a fresh start, but some ghosts aren't meant to be forgotten, and some dreams will never fade. No Magic. No Pairings. AU. Fem!Harry. A crossover, but not. Glee 2x01
1. Chapter 1: No More Cry

**Here Comes the Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own either 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Summary:** After a personal tragedy, Adelaide Potter transfers from Crawford Country School for Girls to William McKinley High. She's in search of a fresh start, but some ghosts aren't meant to be forgotten, and some dreams will never fade. No Magic AU. Fem!Harry.

**Rating:** M for language, violence, character death and mild adult themes. Possible triggers.

**Author:** tlyxor1.

**Chapter One: No More Cry **

_I want to feel just like before, _

_Before the rain came in my door _

_Shook me up, turned me round, _

_Made me cry til I would drown _

_**No More Cry - The Corrs **_

_If I die young_

_Lay me down in a bed of roses _

_Sink me in the river at dawn _

_Send me away with the words of a love song _

The lyrics run through my head on a loop, one of the only songs I've been able to bare hearing since I received the news. It's up there with 'Winter' by Bayside, and 'Heaven' by Brian Adams, and maybe its masochistic of me to make myself cry the way I do, but I'm sad, and grieving, and my _best friend_ is _dead_, so in my mind, it's all rather justifiable. At least, that's how I'm kidding myself, and my parents are sympathetic enough to let me wallow in my own misery.

At least for now.

"Its time to go, Adelaide," Jean murmurs beside me, and Hermione's mother's hand, small, and delicate, and so very soft, hasn't left mine for hours. I've known her forever, and she's been like my second mom since Hermione and I were children, and I honestly don't understand how the woman is still standing tall, and stately, so proud and beautiful in her heartrending grief. "Its time for the wake, love."

I nod, and follow Jean to my father's car where Paul, Hermione's dad, and my parents, James and Lily, are waiting for us, sombre expressions on their grief lined faces. I wonder fleetingly if I look as old as they do in this moment, as though I've aged a lifetime in a week, but the thought doesn't last, and in the car, as Hermione's favourite Taylor Swift album plays through the car's speakers, and I cry a little more on the way to the wake, I ask myself how I'm going to live a life without Hermione Granger in it, when the only life I've ever known is with the busy haired brunette by my side, inseparable, through thick and thin, best friends - _sisters_ - forever.

It was never supposed to end this way.

At the age of eleven, after constant migraines and other such ailments, Hermione's doctors found a malignant brain tumour directly behind her left optic nerve. She was rushed into neurosurgery, and chemo after that, and after three years of battling the disease, she went into remission, to the joy of _everyone_. It didn't matter that she was vision impaired, and bald, and so damnably thin. She was alive, and in one piece, and that was all that mattered.

Except it came back, the tumour, the cancer, far more vicious than before. And two years later, Hermione was tired, and resigned, and so she stopped the treatment, refused that last surgery - that last ditch attempt, we all knew - and six months later, she was gone, out of my reach like a leaf in the wind, or the tune in my head of a song long forgotten.

Except I can never forget Hermione Granger.

I couldn't if I tried.

"Will you be playing at the wake, Adelaide?" Jean queries in her seat to the left of me. In her lap, she holds a crucifix, and I wonder if that gives her strength to get through the unbearably long days, the sleepless nights, the gaping chasm that is Hermione's absence. "I think she'd have liked that."

In the silence that follows, there are a lot of things I want to say. I want to ask why it matters that Hermione would have liked it? She's dead, its her _goddamn wake_ and its not like she'll ever see it. I want to ask why Jean thinks that. I want to ask why she's bothered asking, because its not as if I'll say no.

Not now.

Except I don't say anything of the sort, and I only nod, because Hermione Granger loved when I sang, and danced, and performed, and to honour her memory, to honour my best friend in life and in death, I will sing at her wake, and that is that.

I can do nothing else.

I don't mention that I intend to quit everything of the sort directly after the wake. I don't mention that I intend to pack away my guitar, and my music, and I don't mention that I don't intend to unpack them ever again. I think that will only devastate Jean and Paul more, and after everything, I don't think I can handle that. I don't think they can, either.

The fact is though, that music is just a sharp, stabbing reminder of the friend I've lost, and I just can't deal with that. I probably will never be able to, because this hurt is something I will never recover from.

How can I?

The rest of the drive to the Granger's residence is spent in silence, the only sound the strains of Taylor Swift's 'Fearless' album, and my occasional sniffles as I mouth along the words to Hermione's favourite songs. Despite my condemnation for the cheesy lines and what have you, she had worshiped Taylor Swift, idolised the woman like she'd only ever idolised Eleanor Roosevelt, Oprah Winfrey and Hilary Clinton, and by the time we pull into the Grangers' driveway, I'm wrung out, exhausted, and ready to sleep away all the grief I can't shake for the life of me.

Their house is beautiful, a large, two storey affair with a terracotta roof and white shutters on the window. They have a front porch, and I can remember countless hours spent seated on the porch swing beside Hermione, my guitar in her lap, teaching her all the chords to all her favourite songs.

I wish I had appreciated the time more.

Jude and Angus, my younger brothers, are waiting for us there, and they approach, all dapper in their suits, eyes bloodshot and red rimmed, and almost appearing as wrung out as I feel. Hermione's younger brother, Adrian, is there too, and I'm reminded of his speech at the service, and I start to cry all over again, because its perhaps the most heartbreaking thing I've heard all day.

"_Hermione, you're the best sister I could ever have, and I would give anything to have you back, because I don't know how to live my life without you in it._"

My mother holds me close, and I cry into her jacket, but I pull myself together quickly, wipe my eyes and follow her inside, unsure of how the hell I'll manage to get through an entire set for the sake of the Grangers, who probably need the performance as much as I do.

Inside the living room, I see a small stage set up in the corner, but before it, the Grangers are stood, Jean and Paul and Adrian, accepting the condolences with sad smiles and quiet thanks. I note that Jean's heels look like death traps, and I wonder if the pain from those deter from the pain in her heart, but then someone turns on a powerpoint, and its just photos, and photos, and more photos, and as I see images of myself and Hermione through the years, I'm beckoned forward, a guitar is thrust in my hands, and Jean gives me an encouraging hug, and so I play my guitar, and I cry, but its cathartic, and so I continue.

'here Comes the Sun' and 'Let it Be' by the Beatles, 'No More Cry and Everybody Hurts' by the Corrs'. 'If I Die Young' by the Band Perry, 'Winter' by Bayside, a mellow, acoustic version of Yellowcard's 'View From Heaven'. Finally though, the speeches are about to start, and so I clear my throat, with one more song in mind.

"There was one song that helped Hermione through those difficult days and now, as I remember her life, I hope it, too, can give me strength the same way it did her…"

If it were any other occasion, I might have been embarrassed by the fact, but I'm pretty sure I can play 'Fearless' by Taylor Swift in my sleep, but this time, I pour my heart and soul into the song, and when I'm done, I'm not the only one crying. I step off stage, give a faceless stranger my borrowed guitar and fall into my father's arms, where he rocks me from side to side and guides me out of the room. He hums under his breath, and murmurs promises that everything will be alright into my ear, and I take comfort in his voice, regardless of how false his words are.

"I miss her so much."

"I know, Delle, I know. You'll be alright though, I promise you. It hurts now, but the pain will fade."

And if I try hard enough, I can just kid myself into believing him. If only until I'm reminded of the unforgiving, bitter truth: Hermione Granger is dead, and there is no recovering from that.

**Author's Note:** I promise, it gets happier from here on out. It's finished, ten chapters, plus an epilogue, posted daily, and not long at all. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, leave a review, -t.


	2. Chapter 2: View From heaven

**Here Comes the Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Two: View From heaven**

_Late night drives, all alone in my car _

_I can't help but start singing lines to all our favourite songs _

_And melody's in the air, singing life just aint fair _

_Sometimes I still just can't believe you're gone _

_**View From Heaven - Yellowcard**_

The clock on my dashboard reads a quarter to eleven. I've been driving around for hours, with my iPod on shuffle and a tank that won't stay half full forever. Eventually though, I wind up in front of the Lima Bean, and with nothing else to do, and with no interest in returning home, I drop gracelessly out of my car, lock up and trudge inside. Its a Friday night, the cafe's surprisingly full, and I've never been more grateful for 24 hour service in my life.

With that in mind, I order myself a caramel latte and a brownie, settle in a lonely corner away from the rest of the patrons, and proceed to wile away my time with my iPhone. My curfew isn't until midnight, and my parents are out of town anyway, but as a tired looking server deposits my order on my table, and a group of rowdy party goers I recognise as a combination of Dalton Boys and Crawford Girls file into the establishment, I turn my attention to my phone, and hope the girls don't notice me.

I take a sip of my latte, rich and sweet, just the way I like it, close my eyes to the familiar strains of Bayside's 'Winter' and mouth along to the lyrics. I don't sing them though, because that part of my life is far behind me, but I find comfort in the words, and the knowledge that I'm not the only one to go through this loss.

_It makes you think about the life you've led _

_The shit you've done, the things you've said _

_And its grounding, grounding _

_I've been feeling three feet tall this month _

_Hardly indestructible_

_But the snow melts, and the rhythm still goes on _

_I open my eyes when a shadow falls over my table, to find a tall, familiar boy stood beside my booth. His hair is a rich brown, his eyes are grey, and he holds himself with astounding confidence. He has a lazy smile on his face though, with hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket and his hair a careless disarray. His name is Sebastian Smythe, he's not discriminatory when it comes to bed partners, and I eye him, confused._

_I'd not realised he'd even known I existed._

"_Potter, isn't it?" He queries. "Can I join you?"_

_I give an indifferent shrug, cut myself a piece of brownie and chews slowly, still unsure of the Dalton boy's presence in front of me. I don't really care, honestly, but as I sip my coffee, and eat my brownie, I hope he doesn't expect me to share._

"_I'm Sebastian," he introduces himself._

"_I'm aware," I acknowledge, "I've seen you around."_

"_You're always with that other girl," Smythe observes, "I thought you two were attached at the hip, or something."_

"_She's dead," I answer dully, and he looks nonplused. I don't blame him, really, because I could have used a little bit more tact, but my voice wavers, and all I could really use is some time alone. _

_Instead, Sebastian offers me his handkerchief, I blow my nose and fist the fabric in my hand, appreciative despite myself._

"_No one carries these things around anymore," I tease, and he accepts the change of subject without protest. I'm grateful. "Except my dad, and he's, like, fifty, or something."_

_James is actually 46, and my mother is 43, but Sebastian Smythe is essentially a stranger, and my parents' ages aren't details he really needs to know._

"_What can I say, I'm an old fashioned kind of guy," Sebastian answers, and there is nothing modest about it._

"_Hardly," I scoff, "There's nothing old fashioned about your exploits, Smythe. Your… grandmother?… drilled the habit into you, didn't she?"_

"_Got it in one," Sebastian confirms, unabashed. "Can't deny it's had its uses though. I'm sorry about your friend."_

_Surprisingly, his words are genuine, and the earnest expression he gives me more so. I wonder about this curious, multi-dimensional stranger, and I can't help my attraction to him. It surprises me, but perhaps it shouldn't: Sebastian SMythe is magnetic, after all._

_I give a wan smile. "Me too."_

_The same tired looking server arrives, deposits a coffee and brownie in front of Sebastian and retreats, and the boy and I sit in silence. I sip my coffee, he sips his own, and the quiet is surprisingly comfortable._

_Sebastian SMythe has no expectations._

_The knowledge is a comfort, and perhaps that's why, but I start talking to him, about anything and everything that comes to mind. He listens, and comments, or argues, or agrees regularly and before I know it, midnight has past, my phone is buzzing, and the caller ID lights up with 'Julian Potter' and I grimace, irritated._

"_That's my handler," I inform him dryly, "I'd better go."_

_Smythe nods his acknowledgement, pays my bill, and informs me that he'll walk me to my car. I don't protest, and instead, we exchange numbers on the brief walk there, he gives me a smile, and tells me to call him whenever I want to._

"_I lost my best friend when I was thirteen," he confides, sad smile on his face, "And I still miss him to this day. Its a hard road, and I'm a listening ear if you ever want to talk."_

_I nod, touched by the gesture, thank him, and lift myself into the driver seat of my navigator. He shuts the car door, gives me a wave and watches me pull out of the lot. I drive home with the sound of Boys Like Girls filtering through my speakers, and I sing along quietly, a small smile on my face. That all too familiar, all-consuming feeling of loss is held at bay by the smile Sebastian SMythe has caused, but as I park my car in the garage, shuffle into the house, and find my twin brothers conked out on the couch, I wonder if its something I really want to leave me._

_I don't want to ever forget Hermione Granger._

_With a sigh, I lock up the house, switch off the television and retreat to my room, certain to switch all the lights off as I go. I change my clothes and crawl into bed, Nora Jones filters from my iHome, and I fall asleep to the quiet strains of 'Come Away With Me', and the thought that I should perhaps call Sebastian Smythe… someday._


	3. Chapter 3: Friend Like You

**Here Comes the Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Three: Friend Like You **

_I like the way you're not afraid _

_You've got the world planned in your mind _

_When people say you cannot do it _

_They don't know a friend like you_

_**Friend Like You - Joshua Radin **_

"Are you going to be boarding this year?"

I glance up from my milkshake, a sinful concoction of chocolate heaven, and Sebastian is watching me, expectant. His eyes are heavy lidded and tired, likely from the bender he'd powered through the night before, but his attention is piercing and I look away, unreasonably ashamed.

"I'm not going back to Crawford," I answer, "I don't think I can handle it. My parents arranged my transfer last week. I'll be at William McKinley High at the start of term."

"How… plebeian," he deadpans, and I manage a chuckle. He smiles in response and nudges my knee with his own beneath the diner table. "You'll stay in touch, yeah?"

"Wild horses couldn't stop me," I confirm, and my smile softens to something small, earnest, "Thank you, Seb."

"Hey," Sebastian interrupts, and his arm wraps around my shoulders. He pulls me in close and I steal comfort from his warmth. "None of that, Adelaide. We're friends, yeah? Its what friends do, babe."

I nod my concession, but I cannot wipe the smile off my face for the life of me. Its a small thing, but it has Sebastian grinning like a fool, and in turn, I laugh, irrepressibly happy. In the last month, this boy, this young man, has become my saving grace, and i have no clue where I would be without him.

"So," he muses, "Public school."

Sebastian says the words like they're some sort of incurable disease and I nudge him lightly, amused despite myself. The boy's a snob, all wealthy arrogance and high class bearing, but he's smart, talented, and funny, and my parents are half in love with him just for being my friend.

It probably helps that Sebastian doesn't give a damn about the fact I'm set to inherit a third of one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world, but Sebastian's family is filthy rich themselves, so it probably doesn't even faze him. I don't ask, because money is one of those taboo subjects no one ever talks about at Crawford and Dalton, and just because I've transferred from the school, it doesn't mean I've forgotten all of those unspoken rules that define life there.

"Are you looking forward to it?" He queries, and I eyeball him as though he's an idiot.

"Its school," I deadpan. he rolls his eyes.

"a _co-ed_ school, babe. I don't think you _understand_ - you can actually get laid!"

This time, the nudge to his side is rough, and he winces, to give me an unimpressed glare directly afterwards, but I'm too preoccupied with making sure no one heard him to notice.

"Say it louder," I grouse, "I don't think Tokyo heard you, asshole."

Sebastian looks unrepentant, I roll my eyes again, and spear one of my curly fries with a fork.

Sometimes I wonder what Hermione would think of my friendship with Sebastian, because he's like no one she or I had ever known, but the boy pulls me from those moods almost as quickly as he realises I've fallen into one. This time is no exception, and as he quietly croons the lyrics to Boys Like Girls' 'Thunder' next to my ear, I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of him, and I hope this friendship will last forever.

I've only known him a month, and I can't imagine my life without him in it.

"_Your eyes are the brightest of all the colours _

_I don't want to ever love another _

_You'll always be my thunder _

_So bring on the rain, bring on the thunder…_"

A couple of Sebastian's classmates pile into the diner then, catch sight of us both, and settle themselves carelessly in our booth. I'm still flummoxed by the fact that all their parents have allowed them to stay in a local share house for the summer, but their parents are all probably as much workaholics as my parents try not to be, so perhaps the independence should not be a surprise at all.

Though I recognise them by reputation and the brief glimpses during inter-school socials, I'm quickly, carelessly introduced to Nick Duvall and Jeff sterling, who apparently have a bromance going on that channels JD and Turk from 'Scrubs', and it turns out that they're not actually part of the group in the share house, but they live locally, and their parents check up on the afore mentioned group of share house mates once a week. They, like Sebastian, are part of the Dalton Academy Warblers, and I marvel at the closeness of this show choir, so unlike the entirely uninteresting chorale group at Crawford Country.

"How did you two meet?" Jeff queries, "And how long have you been dating?"

Without fail, I light up like a Christmas tree, my cheeks flame red, and I stutter out a denial that I can barely understand myself. Sebastian gives an awkward cough, shakes his head, and quietly explains that we're just friends, and after a brief moment of awkward silence, conversation picks up over chocolate milkshakes and curly fries.

At least until Nick Duvall throws me a curveball.

"You're Hermione's friend, aren't you? The one who played at her wake."

I flinch violently, Sebastian pulls me against his side, and glares _murderously_ at his friend. He looks ready to start slitting throats, and I'm too startled to calm him down. I pull myself together though, blink away the brightness in my eyes, and pull Sebastian's hand into my lap. There, I hold onto it like a lifeline, and Sebastian's nice enough not to protest.

"You knew her?"

Nick nods. "She went to my church, we were in youth group together. We weren't close, but she was a friend. It sucked to lose her."

I nod, unable to form words through the lump in my throat. Instead, I say nothing at all, choke down a mouthful of my milkshake, and wonder if it would be rude to ask to change the subject.

I dislike being taken off guard.

Fortunately, my salvation comes in the form of my vibrating cellphone. I glimpse the caller ID, see that its my mother, and answer with a voice clogged with emotion. She questions if I've been crying, I answer truthfully, and the conversation quickly transitions into a rapid explanation of the fact my parents have been called to New York for their own respective reasons. I'm invited to join them, but I refuse, unwilling to spend all my waking hours with a security detail I have no patience for, or perpetually questioned by my paternal grandfather and his exorbitantly high standards, or any of the other such unpleasantness that comes with a trip to New York City. Eventually, we say our goodbyes, I hang up, and listen, not particularly interested, as Sebastian, Nick and Jeff discuss Warbler things with an enthusiasm that is almost sickening.

"Everything alright with your mom?" Sebastian queries. I nod absently, and explain the reason for her call. "Empty house?"

"My brothers," I remind him and he clicks his tongue, disappointed.

Nick and Jeff look curious at the mention of brothers, and I explain quickly. Their names are Angus and Jude, they're eleven, and they're about to start the sixth grade at Dalton. They are both disturbingly bright, but Angus has a developing love for all things Arts, while Jude leans more towards the athletic side of things.

"What about you?" Jeff queries, "What do _you_ like?"

It's on the tip of my tongue to say music, that I live for my guitar and piano and singing, but I've not played in two months and so instead, I shrug, and give an unsatisfactory answer. "I don't know."

And maybe its the vibes I give off, or the frown on my face, but neither press the issue. Sebastian doesn't either. Whatever the case, I'm grateful.


	4. Chapter 4: Someone To Fall Back ON

**Here Comes The Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Four: Someone To Fall Back On **

_I am no prince, I am no saint _

_I am not anyone's wildest dream_

_But I will stand behind and be _

_Someone to fall back on _

_**Someone To Fall Back On - Jason Robert Brown **_

While Angus and Jude are being fussed over by our parents, I wander off in search of Sebastian and the few other Dalton Academy Warblers I've come to know. I'm melancholy, reminded of that first day of sixth grade with Hermione, before tumours, and cancer, and death, when we were enthusiastic for this new adventure that is boarding school, so eager to grow up and what have you.

Before I find them though, I find Adrian, with his head in a very familiar, very well worn edition of Tolkien's '_Fellowship of the Ring_'. I stop and stare for a moment, take in the changes two months has wrought on the boy, but then I settle on the common room couch beside him, read over his shoulder, and smile wistfully at the memories the story dredges up.

Hermione used to _love_ 'Lord of the Rings'. She was a veracious reader by nature, and vision impairment hadn't stopped that, but before then, she'd read the book Adrian now holds so frequently that she'd been able to quote passages by the time we were twelve.

"Adrian," I greet, and wonder if I am still welcome to hug him as I used to. We've spoken on occasion over the phone, but I haven't been able to bring myself to visit the Grangers' home, and I'm unsure I ever will be.

"Addie," Adrian acknowledges, slides a photograph between the pages to mark his place, and turns haunted brown eyes to face me. His face seems thinner, older somehow, but I can't tell if that's just my imagination, or something else. Maybe its the way he holds himself that seems older, but either way, I've never seen the boy look so drawn in all the years I've known him.

"Have you settled in?" I query.

Adrian nods, ruffles his chestnut hair, and informs me, "I'm in a dorm with Angus and Jude and a friend from church, Matt Duvall. I guess my parents pulled some strings, or at the very least, the faculty pities me something fierce, but whatever."

I shrug, because its not as though _I_ have an answer for him, and we talk about other things, like how he doesn't really dig Tolkien's writing style, but can understand why Hermione had loved the story so much.

he admits his parents have been fighting, mostly because his dad's been working so much, talks about the waste of time sessions for him his parents have organised with a grief counsellor once a week, and pries for all the sorted details of my nonexistent life, and particularly, my newfound friendship with Sebastian, whom, according to Adrian, is pretty cool all things considered.

"I'm glad you approve," I deadpan, and the smile he gives me is bright and genuine, the first of them I've seen all day. I'm irrationally proud of it, and I wonder sardonically if _I_ should be the one seeing the shrink.

I'm still in conversation with Adrian twenty minutes later, and that's where my family finds me, but they're also in the company of another boy I don't recognise and an older one I _do_ recognise. It's Nick Duvall, and presumably his younger brother, Matthew, also in the company of a couple who can only be their parents, whomever they may be.

Introductions are made where necessary, mostly between myself and Nick's family, and while the parents fuss over Adrian, and the three other boys slowly get to know each other, Nick and I chat idly about the upcoming school year. He and Jeff are juniors with a couple of other Warblers I've met, Thad Harwood and Trent DeSilva, and Nick is anxious, because everything starts to matter for him this year, and he's unsure of whether or not he can handle it.

"I can't really say anything," I inform him, apologetic, if nothing else, "But good luck, I guess."

He chuckles, shrugs, and asks if I want to join him in the search for his friends. I remind him of the modern day wonder that is cellular telephones, he face palms, and sends a group message to the Warbler cavalry, among others, with an enquiry of their location and a non-sequitur that he is in the company of a 'rather beautiful lady' and, 'would you please do her the honour of your company?' and despite myself, I blush six shades of red, and then ask myself why.

I cannot dwell on it though, because Nick's parents interrupt briefly to bid farewell to their elder son, and by the time they leave, I'm once more engrossed in conversation with Adrian, who is in the middle of an impassioned spiel concerning environmental policy, the damage oil production causes to flora and fauna alike, and the precise reason why environmental wellbeing has gone to hell in a hand basket over the last century.

I think its uncanny how much he reminds me of Hermione in this instant, but I try not to dwell on it. Adrian is _not_ his sister, and to compare them will only impact the boy negatively in the long run, and so I seek out all the differences instead and hope that one day, I'll be able to look at my best friend's little brother without seeing the girl we've both lost.

"If it isn't my favourite girl."

I glance up at Sebastian's familiar voice, smile, and laugh when the taller boy gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. I introduce Adrian to Sebastian, Adrian gives him the hairy eyeball, and makes sure that Sebastian knows he'd better not hurt me, lest he suffer the consequences. It's cute, and I hug him in thanks for the care, but not long after, the two Dalton boys are in a passionate discussion about 'Lord of the Rings' because - who knew? - Sebastian's a big fan, and Adrian's steadily becoming one himself.

The common room steadily fills up with Warblers, a few lacrosse players and some guys from the swimming team and I circle the room, certain to catch up with all those I know, and introduce myself to all those I don't. My parents have ducked off to speak with the head of Scarlet house about Angus and Jude's medical restrictions (no contact sports, among other things), and the four sixth graders have huddled up to talk video games, which leaves the combination of sophomores and juniors to socialise and what have you.

"Where do you go to school?" Blaine Anderson, one of the sophomore Warblers queries, "I don't think I've actually heard. The guys talk about you a lot though - all good things, no worries - but I'm curious."

"I _was_ at Crawford Country," I answer, "But after everything last year, I'm transferring to William McKinley High."

"Have you ever been to public school before?" Blaine queries, and he looks concerned.

"Not since elementary," I admit, "Seb is more excited about the fact that its a coed school, nymphomaniac that he is."

Blaine chuckles despite himself, and he warns me to be careful. "Government high schools can be brutal. Trust me on that one."

"I'll keep that in mind," I assure, "Thank you for the head's up."

We wander in separate directions to talk to other people, and I wind up once more at Sebastian's side, his arm draped over my shoulders, and his voice a treasured comfort by my ear, and I think Ron Pope's 'City in Motion' has never been so beautiful.

"_When the lights are blinding, I don't mind it _

_If you require my shade _

_But when the nights are darkest, all I want is _

_For you to shine my way…_"

Eventually though, my parents return, and with them, the time to leave. I hug my brothers, Adrian included, and remind all three of them that I'm available to talk, when and if ever they need me. Afterwards, Sebastian walks my parents and I to my father's Jaguar, gives me a hug, and promises the same thing.

"I'm always here, Adelaide. Don't ever doubt that."

And I smile, squeeze him a little tighter, and not for the first time, I thank God I have this wonderful man in my life. I have no idea where I would be without him.

"I know, Seb," I answer, "And you don't know how much it means to me."

He kisses me on the crown, ushers me into the car, and waves as we drive away. As we do, I look forward to the day I can see him next.


	5. Chapter 5: Welcome To The Jungle

**Here Comes The Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I own neither 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Five: Welcome To The Jungle **

_Welcome to the jungle _

_We take it day by day_

_If you want it, you're gonna bleed _

_But its the price you pay_

_**Welcome to the Jungle - Guns n Roses **_

William McKinley High School is a far cry from the unabashed opulence of Crawford Country, but it bustles with a certain energy that Crawford Country lacks. Maybe its the excessive amounts of testosterone and oestrogen combined in one institutional building, or maybe its the fact that students seem to travel in packs or herds, or _cliques_ like a demented parody of a David what's-his-name documentary, but as I drop out of my navigator, gather my bags and lock up, I recognise that its a change I so desperately need.

Nevertheless, school sucks no matter where you go, so I take my time to cross the parking lot, the scrutiny of boys and girls alike an uncomfortable reminder of my 'new girl' and 'fresh meat' status. I hold my head high, avoid eye contact and wonder if leggings, purple high tops and a Radiohead t-shirt beneath one of Sebastian's button downs is unassuming enough to leave me unscathed long enough to get through the day,

more so, I ask myself if I should have pulled my hair up for the occasion, or if the eyeliner and mascara I've applied is too thick, or if its obvious I'm wearing a thong beneath my leggings. Eventually, blessedly, _finally_, I reach my locker and I take the opportunity of unpacking to hide behind my locker door for a time, but alas, its only five minutes later when the first bell sounds, I reluctantly click my locker shut, and head on my way.

Inside my homeroom, I settle somewhere near the middle of the class, cross my legs at the ankle, and stare absently out the window. My new classmates chatter between themselves as they take their own seats, but a bleached blond who looks as awkward as I feel settles two rows ahead of me, and my attention is now on the question of whether or not he is a new student and, if so, should I approach him?

Under the scrutiny of my new peers, and afraid of rejection, I decide not to and instead, I withdraw a spiral bound notebook and a pen, quickly label it, and grimace as the tardy bell sounds. The teacher, whose name I've forgotten, gets to her feet, calls roll, and then proceeds to hand out the semester outline and syllabus material, explaining all the while. We'll be studying Shakespeare's '_Romeo and Juliet_' and George orwell's '_Animal Farm_' until winter break. she advises that we start reading them as soon as possible, and then proceeds to run through a synopsis of each text until the end of class.

By the end of class, I decide I like my English teacher, whose acerbic wit and genuine love for the subject keeps me interested, and so I pack up my things, make for the door, and nearly collide with the bleached blonde guy that may or may not be a fellow new student halfway there.

"Sorry," I apologise as he does, and figure I might as well introduce myself. "I'm Addie."

"I'm Sam," he answers, "Sam I am."

I blink, somewhat bemused, but nod all the same and query, "Are you a new student?"

"Yeah, and I guess you are too, since you had to ask."

"Guilty as charged," I confirm, and step out of the classroom. Sam follows, and as we join the writhing mass that is a congested school corridor, I query, "What class have you got next?"

"Geometry," he answers, "You?"

"Algebra." I glance at my timetable, on the back of which is a map of the school, and admit sheepishly, "Except I have no idea where it is."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one lost," Sam admits. he squints at the map and grimaces his distaste. "This thing is hell on my dyslexia."

"No worries," I answer glibly, "Its hellish _without_ dyslexia."

Eventually though, we both find the Maths corridor, and our respective classrooms shortly thereafter. They're right next door to each other, so once I bid farewell to the boy, I duck inside my Algebra room, apologise for being tardy, and settle myself in one of the few remaining desks beside a girl who looks to be at least half Asian, wearing a shredded tank top over another one, a denim mini skirt and platform combat boots. She gives me a smile as the teacher deposits a course outline on my desk and a textbook on top of it, lecturing the class all the while. I return the expression with a halfhearted one of my own, withdraw another notebook from my bag, and proceed to spend the entirety of the lesson copying down notes from the board, solving exercises from the textbook, or watching the teacher solve them himself..

And so my morning passes and by the time lunch rolls around, I'm more or less casually acquainted with Sam, a Filipino girl named Sunshine, and a few classmates who have been decent enough to guide the way to my classrooms. I sit with Sam and Sunshine at lunch time though, and as we make idle chit chat in the courtyard over our respective meals, I wonder if we'd be sitting together were we _not_ each transfer students in a school highly dependent on maintaining the status quo.

Probably not.

"What do you think of William McKinley so far?" Sunshine asks.

I glance up from my fruit salad, shrug noncommittally and answer, "It's whatever. School."

Sam tips his head sideways, apparently contemplating the question. "Its not what I'm used to."

Sunshine arches a curious eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"I went to an all boy's school," Sam says simply, "It's different."

I think longingly about Crawford Country school for girls, remember the polished wood floors and the boarding house with its vaulted ceilings, the distinct lack of boys and sigh to myself. There's a part of me that misses it like nobody's business, but then I think of Hermione and all the memories we share there and I collect myself with titanic effort.

I don't need, nor want, to break down at my new school. Ever.

Like seriously.

Never.

"I can't imagine that," Sunshine declares, "I would _die_ in a single-sex school."

I huff a silent laugh and reply, "Its not too bad. Lots of catty girls, but you learn to ignore them after a while."

"Seriously? You too?" Sunshine looks between us, incredulous, and Sam and I share entertained grins.

"Yes," I confirm, "Since sixth grade until the end of last year."

While Sunshine mulls over that revelation, Sam and I compare our three timetables, and I learn I have French and PE with Sunshine directly after lunch. Its apparently a single sex PE class and I, in jest, query if Sunshine can handle it.

"Ha ha, you're so funny," she deadpans. I only smile, check the time, and get up to throw my rubbish in the trash. I take Sunshine's and Sam's as well, and its on my way there that I note, mildly concerned, that Sam's only eaten his apple and a quarter of his peanut butter sandwich.

I try not to dwell on it, because Sam is mostly a stranger, and I don't really have a right to interfere with his business. All the same, I hope he's just not that hungry today, return to our table, and promise that I'll keep an eye on his dietary choices for a little bit. Just in case.


	6. Chapter 6: Winter

**Here Comes The Sun**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or Glee. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Six: Winter **

_Friends stay side by side _

_in life and death _

_you always held my heart _

_You'll always mean so much to me…_

**Winter - Bayside **

On my way to my next class, I stop to sign up for field hockey and soccer, gaze at the musical extra-curriculars for a while and turn away, oddly wistful. I reach my French classroom without incident though, settle in the empty seat beside Sunshine, and drum my fingers against the tabletop with an impatient sigh. I want to go home, already bored out of my mind, and my case isn't helped by the fact that my French teacher, another name I've forgotten, is late. I hope it doesn't become a habit, but as my phone vibrates in my pocket, I'm blessedly relieved from the tedium, if only briefly.

Its a message from Sebastian bemoaning his own first day of classes. I reply with my sympathies and a promise that I can relate, and shortly thereafter, I get another message, in which is an enquiry of what I'm up to now. I can't reply though, because my French teacher, an aged, prunish looking lady, whose skin looks like its about to crumble into dust at any moment, who glares at my phone as though its the reason for all the problems in her life arrives, and I'm honestly scared for the wellbeing of my phone.

Suffice to say, I put it away real quick, open up my French notebook, and pretend to pay rapt attention to the old hag with the reedy voice and myopic eyes. She drones, and her handwriting on the bored is barely legible, but I somehow manage an entire two pages of notes concerning the conjugation of French verbs, and as I leave the class, I admit to Sunshine that despite all my notes, the concept still goes way over my head. She agrees with me, and we bemoan the ten pages of worksheets we've been given for homework all the way to the gym, and as we settle on the bleachers with 22 of our female classmates, I quietly hope that Sunshine can become another friend.

On the bleachers, we meet our gym coach, new on the faculty, a heavyset woman named Shannon Beiste, whose apparently the football coach but really nice, if a bit socially awkward. At the very least, that's the impression I get, and by the end of the hour, when we're told to anticipate a beep test the following day and summarily dismissed directly afterwards, I only doubt my observations just a little bit.

Once I've retrieved the books I'll need overnight from my locker, I make my way out of the overcrowded building and towards my car. There, I withdraw my phone from my pocket, reply to Sebastian's question, and then ask if we're still on for coffee at the Lima Bean. he replies with his confirmation, I smile to myself, and make my way out of the parking lot with Death Cab For Cutie filtering through my car speakers.

At the Lima Bean, I'm pleased to find Sebastian already there, but also somewhat bemused to see that he's been joined by Nick, Jeff and Blaine. Once I order myself a caramel latte and brownie, I join them regardless, cuddle up to Sebastian's side, and enquire as to how their day has gone.

"Freshmen Warblers," Sebastian groans. Jeff laughs, Nick rolls his eyes, and Blaine only grins. "They're _awful_."

The boys tell me the story with exaggerated detail and exuberant gestures over coffee and cake, transition to their day in general, and when they decide that they've said all they had to, they badger me with questions until I surrender, certain to tell them all they want to know about William McKinley High.

Are the guys hot? More or less. Are the girls? I suppose. What are the classes like? Tolerable, mostly. Make friends? I think so. Anything interesting? Not are your teachers like? Hard to say. Do you like it? It's school.

Sebastian rolls his eyes at the vagueness of all my answers, pokes me in the side until I squirm, and then proceeds to moan and groan about conjugating Latin verbs. I join in with my own struggles of French, he volunteers to tutor me, and I promise to give him my first born or love him forever in exchange. Nick has his own struggles with Physics, and Jeff can't understand Pre-Calculus for the life of him, and Blaine sucks something nasty when it comes to Chemistry, and I marvel at the fact that they're all on the honour roll despite their problems.

Its somewhat grounding to realise that I'm not the only one that struggles to maintain an A grade average, but I don't dwell on the subject. Instead, the boys start gossiping about 'True Blood' which, according to them, is the best show since 'Grey's Anatomy'. I insist that its only because of the boobs, and then proceed to list all the reasons why the show is a fail, but nick and Jeff refuse to abide by my logic, and I don't have the time to argue the matter. The boys have to return to campus in time for dinner and I have to be home by six, and so we leave a tip, pile out of the cafe, and make our way towards our respective vehicles with the unspoken understanding that this discussion is not over.

Beside my car, i take a moment to appreciate the fact that Sebastian has already achieved nine pocket awards, proudly stitched out in white letters beneath his Dalton crest: Soccer, Lacrosse, Debating, Ice Hockey, Swimming, Show Choir, Baseball, Tennis and Academic Honours. I don't have long to do so though, because Sebastian pulls me into a bear hug, I return it in kind, and without fail, I savour in the warmth of his embrace.

"I'll catch up with you soon, Addie," Sebastian vows, and his grey eyes are earnest, "But you know, call me tonight. I'll talk to you so long as Blaine doesn't feel inclined to punch me for keeping him from his beauty sleep."

"I will," I agree, clamber into my car, and lean forward to give my friend another hug. "Thanks for today, by the way. I think I needed it."

"No sweat, Addie," Sebastian acknowledges. He closes my car door, slaps the side and waves to me as I pull out of the lot.

The house is unsurprisingly empty when I get inside. Dad, James, is in England, settling a contract or some such there and mom, Lily, is on call in the emergency room. I turn on all the lights I can, microwave the lasagna my mother's prepared for me, and settle in front of the television, switched to video hits, to do my homework. I call Sebastian when I get to my French, he talks me through it, and I have a vague sort of understanding by the time two pages are completed. I still have eight more to do by Friday, but I have a page of Sebastian's simplified explanations to go with the two pages of Madam whats-her-name's lecture notes, so I'm optimistic that I'll manage.

"You're the best, Seb," I tell him, "Thank you so much."

"I see how it is, you love me for my knowledge of the French language."

"You caught me," I answer dryly, smile on my face, "That's exactly it."

Sebastian and I chat about inconsequential things for the remainder of the time we spend on the phone, but I eventually say my goodbyes, hang up and return to my work. I slowly muddle through the remainder of my French conjugations, Sunshine texts me intermittently with an update of her own struggles, and by the time I'm done, it's eight o'clock, my brain is sort of fried, and I decide to give studying a break before I start to read 'Animal Farm'.

I settle down on the couch, change the channel to 'American Dad', and log into Facebook on my laptop. I'm surprised to find some pending friend requests there, but all the same, I accept those I recognise, decline those I don't, and nearly rock backwards, I'm so surprised, when I realise I haven't been online since Hermione asked me to delete her profile. My display picture is one of me and her, a month before she died, and with only a momentary hesitation, I change it to a selfie of Sebastian and I in our respective bathing suits, wielding water guns and obnoxiously massive smiles.

Its startlingly easy to do and afterwards, I feel guilty that I don't feel less remorse. As the number of likes climb, and the comments of appreciation for both my and Sebastian's bodies rise, I comfort myself with the knowledge that its a change that Hermione would not have minded.

At least I hope so.


	7. Chapter 7: Something's Missing

**Here Comes The Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Seven: Something's Missing **

_I feel the love, I feel the pain _

_Not enough to make me whole again _

_If only I could feel complete _

_A puzzle and the missing piece _

**Something's Missing - Sheppard **

The following day, I breeze through the field hockey tryouts with a small smile on my face, clean up afterwards, and make it to my English homeroom with only moments to spare. I drop into the seat behind Sam, withdraw my notebook and a pen, 'Animal Farm', and the journal I'd used the night before to take notes on the two chapters I'd read and analysed. It seems as though I am being an over-achiever, but I know from past experience that it will be a godsend when it comes time for reports and exams, but as my teacher begins the class, I push those thoughts out of my mind.

"Why were you nearly late this morning?" Sam queries after class.

"Field Hockey tryouts," I answer. He nods his understanding, and we walk on in companionable silence. I break it. "So Shakespeare is pretty difficult to understand _without_ dyslexia, so I just wanted to say that if you need help, or whatever, just ask. I don't mind."

Sam looks like he doesn't know whether or not he should be insulted, or touched, but before he can answer, we reach my classroom. I'm sort of glad, because I'm kind of scared to know how he'll respond to my offer, so I give him a wave and a nervous smile, duck into the classroom, and settle into the same seat I occupied the day before.

This time, the girl with the cool boots talks to me.

"Hi, I'm Tina."

"Addie," I answer, and the girl's smile is genuine.

"Do you have any idea what he was talking about yesterday? Because honestly, Asian genetics notwithstanding, I don't have a clue. I had to ask my dad, and he kind of raged."

I blink, bemused, and answer, "I'm pretty sure I understood it. That said, I could be entirely wrong, and doomed for failure, though I hope not."

We make idle chit chat about the homework until the teacher arrives, at which point we silence, turn our heads, and pay close attention to what he has to say.

Just in case.

It isn't until the end of class that Tina turns to talk to me again. I tilt my head, but I'm only confused by what the girl has to say.

"You should eat lunch in the courtyard today."

I furrow my eyebrows, but nod my concession all the same. "Okay. But why?"

Tina leaves me with a cryptic 'you'll see', and I continue on my way to Chemistry, certain to put the thought out of my mind until lunch. Before I can make it to the courtyard though, I'm accosted by a meathead jock, who leans his weight on his arm against the locker beside mine, leers down at the bare skin of my capri clad legs, and then proceeds to speak to my breasts as though I don't have a head above my shoulders.

"Hey babe, will you be at Azimio's party on Friday?"

"Um… let me think about that." I pause. "No. Now, if you don't mind, I don't know you, and I'd really appreciate it if you _backed the fuck away_."

He stares, dumbfounded, I gaze back, expectant, and it isn't until Sam wraps a cool, steady hand around my elbow that I look away.

"Everything alright, Addie?"

"Everything's fine, Sam," I answer, "I was just about to head to the courtyard. Walk with me?"

We link arms like little children, stop by the cafeteria to purchase ourselves some food, and meet Sunshine at the table we'd sat at the day before. She's still working on her French, but I pay it no heed. Instead, I look around in search of Tina, and see her at a table with several others, most of whom I'm pretty sure are upperclassmen.

She gives me a discreet wink, but I don't understand why until she and eleven others break out into song. A number of them jump onto the tables and begin improvisational dancing, but I'm too busy wondering if I've suddenly walked onto the set of 'High School Musical 4' to wonder why they're performing 'Empire State of Mind' to the interest of basically no one.

"I think that's the Glee Club," Sunshine observes, "They're good."

I nod my understanding and agreement, watch them until their performance is done, and give Tina a smile when she catches my eye. Then I turn back to my lunch, swallow a mouthful of water, and ignore the longing I have to join them - the Glee Club.

I've left that part of my life far behind me, after all, and there's no going back now.

"Do either of you sing?" Sunshine queries.

Sam shrugs nonchalantly, I grunt, and Sunshine stares at us both, entirely unimpressed.

"I'm sorry, but I don't speak neanderthal. Want to try that again, in English this time?"

Sam chuckles this time, shrugs again, and admits, "Sometimes. Not in front of a crowd though."

"I don't," I reply, and the words taste like acid on my tongue. I gulp down another mouthful of water, my fries taste like cardboard in my mouth, and my appetite is suddenly lost. I glance at Sam's tray, to see it mostly untouched, and I still don't think we're friends enough for me to interfere.

I still don't know if I have to.

The vibration of my cellphone fortunately rescues me, I answer, and I'm not really surprised to hear Sebastian on the other end of the line. He's in his lunch hour and I can hear his friends in the background, but we chatter mindlessly until the warning bell sounds, I say goodbye, and Sunshine and I head to French, the subject of Glee Club momentarily forgotten.

"So…" Sunshine begins, "Tell me about the guy you were talking to just then."

"Sebastian?" I query. "He's just a friend, and more recently, my French tutor. We, um, we met when I really needed someone, I guess, and he somehow became the closest thing I have to a best friend. He's also half French, and lived in Paris for five years, so instant French tutor."

"I wish I had one of those," Sunshine sighs, "All _I've_ got is a mom who speaks - like - _no_ English. I mean, I love her to pieces, but man…"

"If it makes you feel better, my grandparents insist on speaking only Welsh to my siblings and I."

"I didn't realise you weren't American," Sunshine admits. She looks sheepish.

"I am for all intents and purposes. I mean, I haven't been to Wales, or Britain, even, since I was ten."

I enter our French class behind Sunshine, and the French teacher, whose name I still don't know, glares at me as though I've personally insulted her. I pretend not to notice as I withdraw my notebook and textbook from my messenger bag, check to make sure I've still got all my worksheets, and make a mental note to stop by a news agency on my way home to buy a few binders, plastic sleeves and other such odds and ends.

"What did you do to her? Kick her puppy, or something?" Sunshine queries.

I shrug, clueless, and I'm honestly kind of insulted. I've never had a teacher outwardly dislike me so much, and for no obvious reason. "Beats me."

Regardless, Sunshine and I make it through French class unscathed, and PE afterwards too, but I'm drained afterwards, and I'm not looking forward to the homework I have to complete.

The fatigue is probably due to the fact that I've not been taking my iron tablets, but as I get home and I find my father lounged comfortably on the couch and watching Sports Centre, I figure they can wait another day.

They're revolting, anyway.

I drop down beside him, start clipping my notebooks into the binders I've just bought, and we chat idly about his trip to London. My father's a lawyer for Potter Pharmaceuticals, and he's predominantly in charge of arranging and signing the contracts between the company and the product buyers. I don't pretend to understand the details, but I know that he's not interested in running the company someday and quite frankly, I don't blame him.

And then my father throws me a curveball.

"By the way, Addie, Paul and Jean are joining us for dinner this Friday."


	8. Chapter 8: Over My Head

**Here Comes The Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Eight: Over My Head **

_I never knew that everything was falling through_

_That everyone I knew was waiting on a queue _

_To turn and run _

_When all I needed was the truth _

**Over My Head - The Fray**

The following day, Sam surprises me after English when he admits that Finn Hudson, the quarterback, but not really, since Coach Beiste is doing a total scrap of the last team, wants him, Sam, that is, to join the Glee Club. He's kind of excited about it, and plans to meet the Glee Club guys at lunch, to see if he has what it takes to audition, or whatever, and he wants to know what I think about it.

I don't really have an opinion though. I know that the Glee Club is at the bottom of the social hierarchy, but I also know they're pretty talented. I'd probably join them, too, if not for the fact that I've sworn off music, and so I shrug, tell him to do what he wants, and leave him with an encouraging smile, unsure if I can do anything else.

It turns out though, that Sunshine's also been recruited, and her audition is in the afternoon. Over lunch, she chatters animatedly about what song she should perform, and I contribute to the conversation halfheartedly, text Sebastian, Nick, Jeff and Blaine intermittently, and ignore the heavy feeling in my chest as Sam arrives halfway through the hour, smile on his face, and with word that his pseudo audition has gone well, all things considered.

The rest of the day passes, I get a message from Sam in the evening that tells me he got quarterback, that Finn Hudson was kicked off the team and he'll explain why tomorrow, that he'll probably not audition for Glee anymore, and is that offer for English tutoring still open? I congratulate him, admit my curiosity, and tell him we'll arrange a time for tutoring after I find out if I've made the hockey and soccer teams, and the next morning, i get another surprise.

It turns out that Sunshine, instead of being sent to the auditorium for her Glee Club audition, was instead sent to an abandoned crack house. She vows not to join the club - like ever - and commends Sam for making the decision not to audition himself. I don't know what to say, so I say nothing, and when the afternoon comes, and neither go to the Glee Club auditions, I sigh to myself, unsure why I feel so guilty.

Before I can leave though, I find out I've made both the hockey and soccer teams, and I head to the football field to let Sam know. I get there just in time to see Sam walk away from Finn, and with a frown on my face, I hurry up to my friend, unsure of what to expect.

"Hey, what was that about?" I query.

Sam shrugs. "Finn just wanted to give me some advice."

I frown, concerned. "Are you sure you should listen to him?"

Sam frowns in turn, stops in his step, and queries, "Why shouldn't I?"

"For one," I begin, "He hasn't really got a stellar track record."

William McKinley high has only ever won one game with Finn Hudson on the team, and that was because of Kurt Hummel. I've done my research and honestly, its one of the few things my classmates actually talk about.

"For another, I think you should listen to your coach, who _does_ have such a history."

She coached the Michigan State champions for the last six years, or something, and honestly, I think the woman's a badass, and I only have the utmost respect for her.

"And don't you think he'd be a bit bitter? I mean, you _did_ take his place. Even if it was his own fault, the idiot."

Sam had explained to me over lunch how Finn had tried to talk Coach Beiste into accepting a handicapped, wheelchair bound kid onto the team. It's probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life, and I admit I laughed for a good five minutes when I heard it, but I guess I have to admire how far he's willing to go for his friends, or whatever.

"You think he'd sabotage me?" Sam asks, and he looks disturbed.

I shrug. "I don't know. He's an idiot, honestly, I don't think he can be that malicious, but would you want to take that risk?"

Sam shakes his head, no, and gives me a grateful smile. "Thanks for pointing that out, Addie. I'll go talk to Coach Beiste." He pauses. "What did you want?"

I explain my presence there - to organise a time for the English tutoring - and once we settle on Sunday afternoons, I make my way to my car, hopeful that nothing goes wrong for Sam. He messages me a few minutes later, with word that if he'd gone through with Finn's advice, his arm could have been seriously hurt. He thanks me again, I reply that it's no problem at all, and head home to find my father elbows deep in paperwork, to find my mom asleep, and a chocolate chip muffin in the kitchen with my name on it.

The next day, I get another surprise, and this one is unwelcome. Sunshine, whose become something of a friend in the last few days, who I bitch about French with, who makes me laugh with her snarky sense of humour, has been recruited by Carmel High. She'll be transferring at the start of next week, before her education can be disrupted more than necessary, she'll be joining Vocal Adrenaline as the lead, and she's rather excited about the opportunity.

It probably helps that they've somehow gotten her and her mom a Green Card.

"We'll stay in touch, won't we?" Sunshine queries, expression sad and hopeful.

"Sure," I agree. Sam nods his agreement between us. "You've got my number, and you know where to find me. And there's always Facebook."

Spontaneously, Sunshine hugs us both, begins to cry, and informs us both that we're the first non-Asian friends she's made in America. I laugh despite the situation, Sam joins me, and for a brief moment, it doesn't feel as though Sunshine's about to leave us both for the sharks.

Lunch ends and French begins. The pruned hag that is our French teacher glares at me some more, but the class comes to a close as well, and there's something bittersweet about the way Sunshine and I bitch about the teacher on the way to the gym.

"I hope my new French teacher isn't like her," Sunshine grimaces as she pulls her hair into a ponytail, "I mean, I might actually cry if that's the case."

"You could probably get away with doing an English Second Language class," I muse.

"And get treated like an idiot?" Sunshine retorts, "I don't think so."

"Fair enough," I concede as we leave the locker room.

We reach the bleachers and get comfortable, but Coach Beiste arrives shortly thereafter, instructs us to start running warm up laps, and Sunshine doesn't have the breath to continue the conversation. We pair up for volleyball though, and the AV girls who we're up against kind of suck, so we spend most of the time talking.

"What are you doing this weekend?" Sunshine queries.

"Family friends over tonight, visiting some friends tomorrow, studying on Sunday."

"It's the first week of term…" Sunshine looks confused, as though she can't fathom the concept of early study.

Truthfully, I don't blame her, but Hermione had been pretty insistent back in the day, and some habits just kind of stuck with me. Besides, I can't deny that it's been a godsend over the years.

"I know, but it will be useful later on in the semester."

"Alright, keener," Sunshine acknowledges. She drops the subject and prattles on about this and that in-between spikes at the other team, and I'd probably be concerned about how violently she's playing, but I'm honestly too amused to care.

Eventually, the lesson comes to a close, we change and gather up our things and join the mass exodus out of the building, most students eager for a weekend away from class. I'm anxious for the dinner tonight, with the Drs Granger, and I wonder if it will be awkward without Hermione, or even the boys, but I can't dwell on it for long.

When I get home, my mother has me doing chores and helping with dinner preparation, but as it approaches time for the Grangers' arrival, I'm sent upstairs to clean myself up. I do so with all the procrastination I can muster, but even personal grooming can't keep me forever, and I trudge downstairs in leggings, a tank top, and another one of Sebastian's button downs. My hair is in a soggy disarray of errant curls, and when I enter the living room, I'm not really surprised to find that Jean and Paul have already arrived.

Jean's lost weight since I've seen her last, and Paul looks like he's not slept in days. I hug them both fiercely, see Hermione in Jean's weary smile and the cinnamon of Paul's tired eyes, and the grief comes back in one fell swoop, a tidal wave of emotion I struggle to hold at bay. I've missed them both, my second parents for all intents and purposes, but in truth, I've missed Hermione the kitchen, as I help myself to a glass of water, I don't realise Jean has followed me into the kitchen until she addresses me.

"Your dad tells me you haven't played your music since Hermione's wake."

I stiffen, because I'd hoped the Grangers wouldn't hear of that particular change, but I guess its just delusional optimism on my part. This conversation has probably been inevitable.

"My dad is right," I confirm, and I can't bring myself to look at Hermione's mother.

"Do you think Hermione would have wanted you to give up something you love?"

The words hit me like a ton of bricks, I flinch, and I dig my nails into the skin of my palms, unwilling and unable to face the truth. Because, honestly? hermione would have punched me in the face for even considering it.

"I thought so," Jean acknowledges. She reaches forward, carts a hand through my hair, and presses a kiss to my crown. "I hope I hear you sing again, Adelaide. Maybe not tonight, but soon."

I nod, unable to form words, and watched through blurring vision as Jean leaves the kitchen. Then I lower myself to the ground, pull my knees to my chest, and cry until my cheeks are raw.

I can do nothing else.


	9. Chapter 9: Home

**Here Comes The Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Nine: Home **

_Then summer came and went _

_We were battered by the sense _

_That we could not keep holding on _

_I woke up and it was fall_

**Home - Ron Pope**

On Saturday, I meet Sebastian at the Lima Bean for lunch. The weather's nice, and my caramel latte is wonderful, but as my friend sidles in, drops into the seat beside me, and tugs a lock of my hair, I feel as though my day brightens up that little bit more. I can see some of my peers, former and current, and I smile at those who meet my eye, but Sebastian pulls me into conversation about our respective weeks and I push them out of my mind.

"What's up?" He queries, and I don't think I've ever really noticed that he has the mildest French accent. "You seem… out of it."

"I think I'd like to join the Glee Club," I admit, and Sebastian arches an eyebrow, surprised despite himself.

He knows I have a history with music, but he also knows that I've not played or properly sung since Hermione's wake. I've heard _him_ sing and play the piano, but it's a performance that has not been reciprocated. He's never pushed me to play for him either, but I think a part of him has always been curious.

"What's changed?" He queries.

"Hermione's mom told me a truth that I've been avoiding," I hedge, "And honestly, I miss my music. I've never gone so long without…"

As a musician himself, he gets it, so I'm not surprised when Sebastian nods his understanding. He tugs me into his side, presses a kiss to my temple, and rests his forehead against mine. He smiles, and tells me, "I'm really proud of you, Adelaide."

I smile softly, and we chatter mindlessly about anything and everything.

"Have you met any one worth screwing at this new school of yours?"

I roll my eyes, not particularly surprised in the turn our conversation has taken.

"Sebastian, my and your opinions of shag-worthiness are very different."

He laughs, and concedes the point with a nod and a smile. "Check it out, that Tracey Davis chick is totally hot for you."

Eventually, Sebastian's expected back at Dalton, and I'm expected back at home, so Sebastian walks me to my car, we say our farewells and we head our separate ways.

At home, I find my father mowing the lawn and my mother baking, inform them both I'm home, and retreat upstairs. I bypass my and the twins' respective bedrooms, climb the stairs to the attic, and find what I'm looking for exactly where I'd left them.

My guitars are in their respective cases, laid out on their sides, adorned with a fine layer of dust but otherwise untouched. A box full of my manuscript paper, music books, sheet music and other such paraphernalia is nearby and slowly, I begin the task of returning everything to my bedroom.

When I'm done, I sit on my bed, my favourite acoustic in my lap, and with the familiarity of so many years of practise, I begin to tune the strings by ear. I can't really describe the feeling I have as I begin to play a mindless tune, but its like I've come home, and I can't wipe the smile off my face for the life of me. My fingers transition into the familiar introduction, I clear my throat, and I begin to sing, Pink's 'Who Knew'.

"_You took my hand, you showed me how _

_You promised me you'd be around, oh _

_I took your words and I believed _

_In everything you said to me_

"If someone said three years from now

You'd be long gone

I'd stand up and punch their mouth,

Coz their all wrong…"

By the time I finish the song, my parents are in my bedroom doorway. My mom's crying, and dad's eyes are suspiciously bright, but they both hug me as though their lives depend on it, mutter about being proud of me, and request I play for them some more.

I'm tempted to refuse, but I relent anyway, certain that its the least I can do for all that they've done for me since the start of summer. Eventually though, my voice grows hoarse and my fingers ache, so I beg off another encore, shoo my parents out of my room, and opt to work on some study to pass the time.

The next day, I meet Sam at the public library, we settle at a table by the back windows, and between read throughs and translations of 'Romeo and Juliet' and discussions about 'Animal Farm', Sam and I talk about whatever comes to mind, mostly things relating to school. Eventually, the topic turns to Glee Club, and Sam surprises me once again.

"I think I'm going to join Glee," he informs me.

"Didn't you change your mind about that?" I query.

Sam shrugs. "I changed my mind again."

I shrug in return. "Each to their own, but just to let you know, I'll be joining you."

The surprise on Sam's face is undeniable, and I'd probably laugh if I wasn't so unreasonably nervous.

"I didn't think you were into that kind of stuff?"

I shrug, unsure of how to explain. Eventually though, I figure the truth is the best way to go.

"I quit for a while, music, I mean. Then, I don't know, someone important to me reminded me of something. I started playing and singing yesterday. Again, I mean."

"Vague much?" Sam jests, but he smiles. "That's cool, Addie. I'm glad I'll have a friend."

I smile and agree, we return to the English work, and when I return home, I still have a smile on my face. I'm excited for the week ahead, for Glee Club, the start of training for hockey and soccer, and though French will suck without Sunshine there, I'm enthusiastic for new things.

It's a good feeling.


	10. Chapter 10: Breathe

**Here Comes The Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Chapter Ten: Breathe **

_If I just breathe, let it fill the space between _

_I'll know everything is alright _

_Breathe, every little piece of me _

_You'll see, everything is alright…_

**Breathe - Michelle Branch**

When I meet Sam on Monday morning, our first stop is Mr Schuester's office. The thing is, we have no idea where it is, so it takes us about ten minutes to actually find it, and another ten minutes after that for the man to actually show up. He's fairly uninteresting, with hair gelled to obnoxious levels, and with an appreciation for sweater vests, but his smile is congenial enough, and when he finds out that we're both interested in joining Glee Club, his face lights up like a house on fire.

It's a little bit weird.

After that encounter however, English passes uneventfully, and by the time I arrive at Maths, it appears word has spread of my and Sam's interest - at least within the Glee Club - because Tina basically jumps down my throat as soon as I take my seat beside her. She's smiling though, apparently ecstatic, and I'm a little uncomfortable with her exuberance.

"You don't need to worry, _everyone_ gets into Glee, but I'm glad you're joining us. Fair warning though, everyone's kind of crazy, and there's always _some_ sort of drama going on."

"Thanks for the heads up," I acknowledge dryly, but as our teacher assigns us a series of problems to solve for the last half of the lesson, we spend most of our time trying to make sense of the questions instead of talking about New Directions. I'm kind of glad.

By lunch time, I've been approached by Artie Abrams, Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones, and Rachel Berry, and I'm rather exasperated by the entire situation. I join Sam at our usual table though, ask him if he's been similarly harassed, and essentially sulk when I find out that he hasn't.

"Why me?"

"I guess you're more approachable than the school's new quarterback," Sam shrugs cluelessly, but I'm not satisfied with that answer. Sam changes the subject though, and while he enthuses about his Chemistry class before lunch, I eat my chicken salad, and scrutinise his own plate. He's only eaten about half his sandwich and four of his apple slices, but I can't ask if he's not hungry, because just as I'm about to, we're joined by a pair of Cheerios whom, apparently, are a couple more members of Glee.

lucky for me, lunch ends, and unlucky for me, I have French to deal with - alone. I think of Sunshine, and send her a message with an enquiry of how her first day at Carmel is going, but I pocket my phone as I reach my classroom, take a seat at my usual desk, and quietly mourn Sunshine's absence at my side.

This class is going to be _miserable_.

Eventually though, even French with my hideous teacher comes to an end, and PE directly after it too, and I meet Sam in the hall outside of the choir room. He gives me a nervous smile, and I can't help but note that he looks a little green around the gills, but as I sling my guitar case higher on my shoulder, and note the guitar on _his_ back, we're abruptly joined by Mr Schuester, who has an almost _manic_ smile on his face.

It's a little bit disturbing, truth be told, but I don't have time to dwell on it.

"Are you two ready?"

Sam and I both reply with quiet confirmations, follow Mr Schuester into the choir room, and are immediately put under the scrutiny of the twelve members of Glee. Tina gives me a smile and thumbs up, the three football guys and Finn give Sam neanderthal-esque grunts of acknowledgement, and it takes all I have not to fidget with the hem of my dark green 'Shit Happens' t-shirt.

"Do you two have pieces you want to share?" Mr Schue enquires, "Just so I get an understanding of your respective ranges."

"Sure," I agree and look to Sam, questioning. "Do you want to go first?"

Sam nods, I settle against the wall, and watch as Sam silently sets himself up on a stool. The Glee Club chats between themselves as he does, but as Sam tunes up his guitar, covertly watched by a few of the Glee Clubbers, I'm suddenly nervous.

I haven't performed in front of an audience since Hermione's wake.

What the hell am I doing here?

But then Sam starts to play, and the introduction of the Goo Goo Dolls' 'Iris', so very familiar to me, makes me smile. His voice shortly thereafter nearly makes me cry.

He's really good.

"_And I'd give up forever to touch you_

_Because I know that you feel me somehow _

_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be _

_And I don't want to go home right now…"_

He's met with a round of applause when he's done, and it's sort of adorable the way he blushes under the attention, and as he and I switch places, my nerves return tenfold. I think of Hermione though, and I imagine her encouraging smile in my mind's eye, and I begin my guitar introduction, certain to pour everything I am into my cover of Corine Bailey Rae's 'Put Your Records On'.

It helps that Sam wears an encouraging smile of his own.

"_Three little birds sat on my window _

_And they told me I don't need to worry _

_Summer came like cinnamon, so sweet _

_Little girls, double-dutch on the concrete…_"

The girls harmonise, and Tina's smile is impossibly wide, but I'm smiling too and honestly, I couldn't stop myself if I tried.

I've missed this - more than I've realised.

The rush is exhilarating.

When my performance comes to an end, I'm met with an applause and a few wolf whistles, but mr Schuester eventually wrangles the club to order, a smile on his own face. He seems pleased as punch, and as he looks between Sam and I, that impression seems magnified somehow.

"Sam, Adelaide, welcome to New Directions."

I smile, because in truth, there's nowhere else I'd rather be.


	11. Epilogue: First Day Of My Life

**Here Comes The Sun **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'Glee' or 'Harry Potter'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

**Epilogue: First Day Of My life **

_Yours is the first face that I saw _

_I think I was blind before I met you _

_I don't know who I am or where I've been _

_But I know where I want to go _

_**First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes **_

I ask Sebastian to perform an impromptu duet with me. We're at Dalton, because my parents are taking Angus and Jude home for the weekend, and I've decided to tag along for the drive. We're lounged comfortably in the Warblers common room, with Sebastian's iPod playing Boys Like Girls from the speakers. and it's there I'm struck with a sudden bout of inspiration and unsurprisingly, it doesn't take long for Sebastian to agree.

"_Today is a winding road_

_That's taking me to places _

_I didn't want to go…"_

Sebastian looks impressed by the quality of my voice, but as he takes over the next lines, he smiles. I harmonise, and I'm surprised by how well our voices blend.

"_Today in the blink of an eye_

_I'm holding onto something _

_And I do not know why I try_…"

In the next verse, our voices overlap, and I don't notice that we're joined by a group of Warblers, and Kurt, but I don't think I'd stop if I had.

"_I try to read between the lines,_" I sing.

"_I try to look in your eyes,_" Sebastian follows.

"_I want a simple explanation._"

"_Of what I'm feeling inside._"

"_Gotta find a way out_," I continue to hold that last note, and Sebastian's tone is earnest, desperate even.

"_Maybe there's a way out…_"

I grin at him, wink, and I feel the following lyrics like I feel the heat of Sebastian's palm against my own.

"_Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer_

_Do you know your unlike any other?_

_You'll always be my thunder…_"

Sebastian picks up the lyrics from there, and he's smiling too, bright and genuine, and as I harmonise, I want to stay in this moment forever.

"_Your eyes are the brightest of all the colours _

_I don't wanna ever love another _

_You'll always be my thunder…"_

Together, we sing, "_So bring on the rain, bring on the thunder…"_

Sebastian and I stop there, and as I hug him, we're met by a round of applause. I look up, startled, and I'm surprised to fine the crowd gathered, among them my parents, and the Doctors Granger, and all four adults are teary eyed, and I blush bright red, and bury my face in Sebastian's chest.

Even as I do though, I can't remember the last time I've felt so happy. It's like I'm born again, and I want to stay this way forever.

"thank you, Sebastian, for everything," I tell him later. "You didn't have to, but I appreciate it all the same."

Sebastian presses a kiss to my crown. "That's okay, Addie. There was no where else I'd rather be. There still isn't."

And as I watch Dalton Academy disappear in the rearview window, I know Sebastian Smythe will be a friend for life.

**Author's Note:** Perhaps a sequel?


End file.
